alf1a.jpgalf1b.jpgGONE WITH THE WIND (The Guardian, 7/6/03)

When anyone tells me that a sport which involves wind, sails and ‘sheets’ (ropes to the rest of us) is ‘easy’ and can be picked up ‘in minutes’ I become immediately suspicious since most of my encounters with such paraphernalia have resulted in being ditched in the drink by everything from dinghies to trans-Atlantic yachts..

So I was more than a little surprised when, after ten minutes at the controls of a sandyacht on Newgale Beach in Pembrokeshire, I actually seemed to be in charge of the craft and able to make it go where I wanted, and, more importantly, at the speed I wanted. There were periodic instances of wrapping the sail around the mast, which resulted in drifting to a halt, but a sandyacht is so simple to rig up that the tangle could be sorted out in seconds and off I went again.

Two hours later I was sweeping up and down the sunny, windswept beach, following my instructor with ease, touching – so he said – speeds of 30-35 mph, taking my sandyacht into controlled skids and having a thoroughly fine time. Even the inadvertent backflip I managed to force my sandyacht into whilst attempting a full speed gybe at the very end of the day (overconfidence rearing its ugly head) was fun in a spectacular, adrenalin-charged way.

So the sales patter, for once, was completely true - you can learn to sandyacht in half an hour, which is what Andy Parr, Welsh Champion and world speed record holder had told me before we met up at Newgale (Andy’s record speed, incidentally, is 68.2 mph in a ‘Class 5’ racing sandyacht – it’s like travelling down the M4 at almost the legal speed limit whilst three inches from the ground).

Andy is a true enthusiast for his sport in every sense of the word and I’d been sceptical of his comments until I actually climbed aboard one of his ‘Potty’ mini sandyachts and tried it for myself. A ‘Potty’ is basically a fibreglass seat slung between a triangular metal frame with a wheel at each corner. A mast, boom and 3.4 square metre sail rise above the frame, and a single rope lets the sail in and out via a simple ratchet system. You steer with the front wheel using your feet. The whole thing is lightweight, easy to put together, costs only £750 new, and, as Andy put it, “is foolproof to use”.

There’s an appealingly low key, low tech feel to a mini sandyacht. It’s the kind of thing you could imagine knocking up in metalwork classes at school, and it makes a nice change from the hype and style consciousness associated with so many outdoor sports these days, like the kitesurfing that was going on in front of us on the beach. The associated ‘accessories’ are alsos low tech and unassuming – all that’s required are waterproofs, gloves to prevent rope burn, sunglasses (as much to keep the sand out of your eyes as the sun) and a cycling helmet or similar form of brain bucket.

Once we’d dragged our craft onto the beach – again an easy task as they’re very light - the instructions were simple. “Steer with your feet, pull the rope in to go faster, let it out to slow down and if you want to stop just let go of the rope. Away you go…”.

So I did, on a thirty-metre tack up the beach. I’m not a natural sailor and have always had trouble manoeuvring windsurfers and boats, so when a fast approaching pebble bank made a turn back towards the ocean advisable I was a little wary of what might happen. I gingerly put the front wheel into a gentle right hand turn, the boom swung over my head, the sail briefly flapped around before the wind caught it again, I pulled tighter on the rope and hey, presto! - off I went, straight back where I’d come from. When I learnt to sail a dinghy it took me the best part of a day to perfect this manoeuvre; in a sand yacht it had taken less than a minute.

Kind of. For over the next hour or so a good fifty percent of my tacking manoeuvres resulted in the sail and mast becoming intertwined a result of not letting the sail out quickly enough, but as Andy pointed out, this would sort itself out with practice.

Within half an hour he’d encouraged me into doing skidded turns in the sand, which is when you realise just how stable a ‘Potty’ is. Approaching my first turn I felt like I was hooning down the beach at about 30 mph, although it was probably nearer to 15, and was convinced the thing would flip over if I put it into a sharp turn. But what the hell, my instructor had told me to do it so it must be safe…

I cranked the front wheel around tightly, let the sail out slightly, and heard the satisfying shuuush of short, sturdy pneumatic tyres sliding across packed, damp sand as my ‘Potty’ skidded across the beach with what I at least thought was style and aplomb. Simple…

I also soon learnt that by turning into the skid, as you would in a rally car, you can come straight out of it and continue sailing back in the opposite direction from which you’ve just come, a most satisfying move. And as Andy then said, “That’s about it – let’s go for a sail up the beach”.

There is, however, a lot more to sandyachting than just belting up and down the beach and sliding into skids from time to time. Experienced sailors can pull off moves such as 360s and will regularly have their craft sailing along on two wheels (I even managed it myself once or twice, although not always through choice); there are races for larger classes of sandyachts where top speeds can be 75 mph or more; and you can also use them to explore.

We covered the whole of Newgale’s two mile length several times over, easily negotiating our way around rock pools, rock outcrops, small streams, flotsam and jetsam and various dogs eager to leap aboard (humans and dogs are an obvious ‘hazard’ and should always be given right of way and prime consideration, although most of the people we passed seemed intrigued by our mode of transport rather than irritated, and several stopped to ask questions when we pulled over for a break). On larger beaches you can travel for miles to areas few walkers would ever be likely to reach – Cefn Sidan in South Wales, for example, is one of Europe’s premier sandyachting beaches at eight miles long and three miles wide, where you can journey over vast areas – Andy’s description of exploring the sand banks and channels here put me in mind of a land-based version of Erskine Childer’s classic tale ‘The Riddle of the Sands’.

Sandyachts have a surprisingly long history, possibly dating back some 4,000 years to the Ancient Egyptians, and certainly as early as 16th century China where there are records of royalty taking part in wind powered chariot races. In the 20th century the modern version of the sport developed first in Belgium, was later dominated by the Brits, and is now a stronghold of French, German, Dutch and Belgian racers (it’s even on the curriculum of French schoolchildren living on the Channel coast).

Sandyachting is so easy to learn, and so much fun, and Britain has such fine beaches and sailing conditions, that there seems to me little reason why anyone getting into it now couldn’t soon be up there challenging those continentals.

WAY TO GO

The home of the sport in the UK is Lytham St. Annes, where the first British sandyachting club was formed in 1951, and where sailing still enthusiastically continues today.

Just down the coast, Hoylake near Liverpool has perhaps the best club facilities in the UK. Westward Ho! in Devon, Brean Sands near Weston-super-Mare, and Cefn Sidan in South Wales are also top venues.

For more information on where to sail, clubs and lessons, check out www.britishlandsailing.co.uk.

For more information on ‘Potty’ minilandyachts check out www.minilandyachts.com or call Andy Parr on 01437 7814548.